Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

140 Chapter 140

Seraphina’s POV 1

The Morrison house looked exactly the same as I remembered from before visits–white clapboard siding with forest green shutters, a wraparound porch lined with hanging flower baskets, and that old wooden swing.

“They’re gonna lose their minds,” Caleb said again as we pulled into the gravel driveway. “Mom’s been cooking since I called. Pretty sure

she made enough food to feed the entire pack.”

I managed a weak smile.

He turned off the engine and looked at me with those kind blue eyes. “You ready for this?”

*No.* I wasn’t ready for anything.

But I nodded anyway.

The front door burst open before we even made it up the porch steps.

“Seraphina!”

Margaret appeared in the doorway like a force of nature–gray hair in a messy bun, flour–dusted apron, arms already outstretched for a

hug. Behind her, Robert emerged with that gentle smile I remembered so well.

“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Margaret pulled me into one of those bone–crushing hugs that only mothers could give. “You’re skin and

bones! Haven’t they been feeding you in that fancy city?”

“Mom,” Caleb warned gently. “Let her breathe.”

“Don’t you ‘Mom‘ me, Caleb Morrison.” But she released me, her weathered hands moving to cup my face. “Let me look at you properly.”

I tried to smile, tried to pretend her maternal concern wasn’t making my chest ache with longing for something I’d never really had. “Hi,

Mrs. Morrison. It’s good to see you.”

“None of this Mrs. Morrison nonsense. You’re family, sweetheart. Always have been.” Her eyes–so much like Caleb’s–searched my face

with motherly worry. “You look tired, honey. When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”

“I ate on the bus-”

“Bus food doesn’t count.” She was already herding me toward the front door. “Robert, get her bags. Caleb, wash up. I’ve got pot roast in

the oven and fresh biscuits cooling on the counter”

interior of the house was exactly as I remembered. Worn hardwood floors covered with colorful braided rugs. Family

available surface. The smell of home cooking

leading me toward the living room. “We turned Caleb’s old room into Robert’s workshop, and the guest room is full of

is perfect,” I said quickly.

16:32

1/4

<

140 Chapter 140

my plate high with pot roast and mashed potatoes and green beans from her garden, chattering about local gossip and asking gentle questions about my life that I deflected as

passing me the butter for my third biscuit. “Caleb mentioned

my mouth.

how wonderful!” Margaret’s face lit up. “I

has his father’s eyes. Lily has mine and Damien’s mixed together–blue–green like

“They’re perfect,” I whispered.

have heard something in my voice because she reached over to pat my hand. “Of course they are, honey.

are.”

steered the conversation toward safer topics after that–the weather, local

my mind

dinner right now? Was Damien home, or was

thinking about me?

Adrian asked

me back to

tired,” I lied. “It’s been a

clearing dishes with motherly efficiency.

get settled while us

“I can help-”

not.” She shooed me toward the living room. “You’re a guest in this

honey” and

and me alone

an old stuffed animal from somewhere

“For all of this. I know

his father’s old recliner, studying my face with

you, I ran

other people when handle it yourself. So whatever brought you to

you

have trouble. You

my hands, folded in my lap like a prayer. “I don’t even know where

16:32

<

140 Chapter 140

“Start wherever feels right.”